


Magnetised

by walshbane



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Assassin's Creed Syndicate - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Emotions, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Mornings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, asdfghjklo, assholes, its gay, just a couple of guys being gay, kinda ??????, uhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-04 19:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12777642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walshbane/pseuds/walshbane
Summary: Jacob saves a young boy's life but ends up stumbling into more than what he intended





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> tw: blood
> 
> 1\. ahhhhhh sorry for not writing in forever (writers block kicked my ass man)  
> 2\. i haven't really seen any fanfics where jacob is dating a guy and i'm like ????? he is canonly bisexual y'all should jump on that.  
> 3\. i wrote this nearly a month ago so there may be errors that i've overlooked. sorry in advance

Jacob had been on edge all day. Ever since Starrick’s death, he had been going through London, in what he described to Evie as a “clean-up operation”, taking out rouge Blighters that were still hiding in the shadows of the city. It had seemed like a good idea to begin with, but it was quickly becoming more of a chore than a job. 

The sun had just begun to set, creating an awe-inspiring ombre effect over the Thames that most people had come out to see. And Jacob saw this as a perfect opportunity to catch any Blighter scum. He was perched on top of a rooftop overlooking the docks. People below him roamed about, although from high up Jacob was they just looked like bobbing heads, occasionally stopping to admire the view. Lovers sat on the benches in front of steel railings to watch the ships move in and out of the Thames, arms wrapped around each other while others trotted along with hands shoved into pockets and head bowed, navigating the back streets and alleyways of London with ease. Streetlamps were just coming on now, creating shadows along the brick walls of buildings and shedding more light on dirty dealings that were occurring in London. Across the street, a bar fight has broken out between a few men and punches were thrown blindly until police parted them. And Jacob sat and watched them all.

Even as night drew near, the city didn’t fall asleep. And neither did Jacob. The city was uncomfortably quiet, and Jacob was considering returning to the train hideout and sleeping on his sofa in one of the carriages while Evie and Henry stood unbearable close to each other pondering over pieces of crumpled paper. Jacob sighed and stood up, ignoring the pain in his knees and he jogged down the slope of the roof. From there however, he noticed something. On the other side of the street, a boy, no older than seventeen possibly, was being followed by a Blighter. The Blighter kept his distance from the boy, and Jacob could only assume this was to not arouse suspicion from the public, and he stopped to look into shop windows and pubs every now and again before pursuing the boy once more. If anything, this Blighter was more of a pest than a genuine threat. But he was a pest that needed taking care of. 

Jacob dropped back down onto one knee and remained perched on the roof, following the Blighter’s movement with an eagle eye. There was just something about the movement of the Blighter that made Jacob’s skin crawl with distaste- it was a sly walk, but oddly casual and collected (and Jacob had never understood how they could wear such ever boots without making a sound). It was a walk that promised something else than what was on the surface. Jacob watched as both the boy and Blighter turned into an alleyway, which was adjacent to the house Jacob was on, and walked towards the docks. Out the corner of his eye, Jacob saw the Blighter’s hand twitch, before a flash of silver caught on the moonlight and hit Jacob’s face. Jacob’s body immediately went rigid- the Blighter had a knife. How had he not noticed before? How had he not even suspected it? It would be a quick and perfect kill; creep up behind the civilian, stab them in the back and as the body was spasming around, hurl it into the Thames. 

The boy, who was still seemingly oblivious to the Blighter stalking him, stopped in the middle of the alley to fix his clothes, holding his coat tighter around his small frame and pulling at his sleeves to cover his hands. He looked so fragile and flustered. Behind him, the Blighter had caused the sea of people surrounding the docks to part and stumble away in fear, all eyes drawing to the knife digging into the Blighter’s palms. Yet the boy never looked back. His entire body was trained on the metal railings as he stepped out of the obscured alleyway and into the night, the Blighter trailing behind him. The boy stopped suddenly once he reached the barrier. His upper body was flung against it and his head aimed towards the steep, muddy embankment which led into the Thames, the surface of which was lit up by the moonlight, causing white streaks to dance on the top.

The Thames was empty at that time of night, the boats that previously populated the river with passengers littering the decks had scattered into other lands, making the expanse of water seem vast and as if it disappeared down into fathomless depths. 

Footsteps echoed throughout the docks as the Blighter positioned himself directly behind the boy, completely blocking Jacob’s view. The knife still lay in the palm of the Blighter’s gloved hand, but his fingers had closed around it, gripping it tightly in such a manner that Jacob knew what was going to happen next. In that moment, Jacob didn’t think about why the boy had not turned around yet nor why the Blighter hadn’t attacked him. Jacob didn’t actually think any coherent thoughts in that moment. He stood up hastily. Ignoring the creek of roof tiles as the slid down the side slope, he crouched down on the ledge of the roof, his hands shifting to his belt so he can grab his kukris. From above, it was clear that the boy’s hands were shaking violently, his hold on the metal railings turning his knuckles white and his entire body trembling horribly. 

As soon as the Blighter’s hand twitched slightly, Jacob hurled himself off the ledge, flattened the Blighter on the ground, and drove his kukris straight through his back before lifting the man’s head back to create a gash across his throat. The Blighters head lolled to one side and made a sharp thump as it hit the ground.

Jacob stood up after a second. His knees and hands were covered in blood. The Blighter’s blood had begun to weave its way around the cobblestone paths of the docks, spilling into the road. It wasn’t until Jacob looked up did he realised that the boy still had his back turned, and sobs that were impossible to silence were wracking his small frame. Tentatively, Jacob reached a hand forward to lay on the boy’s bony shoulder.

“Are you okay? Not hurt at all are you?”

The boy immediately jerked backwards, stumbling over a stone that was jutting out of the ground and his arms failed about at his sides as he struggled to keep his balance. He fixed his mussed hair and straightened his thin-rimmed glasses, not once meeting Jacob’s gaze for a second. There was definitely something odd about the teenager and Jacob cocked his head to one side as he peered into the boy’s eyes. He had a very small and rounded face, and almost a comedic blush plastered on his face. His eyes were a shining blue and even though his lips were just a mere line, Jacob found them strangely endearing, and Jacob didn’t deny the fact that his eyes always found themselves resting on those lips. The entire boy was endearing too- his tweed suit was a few sizes too large for him and draped carelessly over his shoulders and drowning him down to his knees. His waistcoat was buttoned up so tightly that it could easily be cutting of the boys breathing. Beneath Jacob’s scrutinising gaze, the boy seemed even smaller than before. Jacob blinked a couple time before taking a slow step towards the boy. The boy eyed him warily.

“Excuse me, what’s your name?” Jacob asked.

“Edmund,” Edmund replied.

“And how old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

Jacob nodded and rubbed his hand along the stubble on his sharp jawline. An awkward silence fell between the two of them as Edmund bit his bottom lip nervously and Jacob fiddled with his jacket buttons. He didn’t want to pry on the boy’s privacy, but Jacob wasn’t one to just let something like this slide without any suspicion raised.

He glanced up in time to see Edmund taking a few steps back, his eyes now meeting Jacob’s. They were deep blue ocean eyes; eyes that had more below the surface than what was revealed. Maybe Jacob could let himself drown in them. It was then that he noticed that Edmund had backed away more, and was now stood in the shadows of a building, his body cowering in on itself as he stood.

Jacob reached out and grabbed Edmund by his wrist, and pulled Edmund closer to him again. He tried not to think about the was the Edmund’s breath was tickling his lips, or how Edmund’s own looked incredibly inviting at that moment and how easy it would be for Jacob to lean down and for their lips to meet and he would kiss the boy breathless and he could take him into a bar and they would be happy lovers drinking cheap beer that had a statistically high chance of killing them both. Maybe afterwards he could bring Edmund to the train hideout and hover above the younger boy and leave adorable little marks along his neck and jaw for his parents to find, all sense lost in an ecstasy of love and lust. After he could wrap the boy in his arms and hold him tight as they both drifted off to sleep, buried deep in warm, comforting blankets. In hindsight, that idea didn’t seem so bad to Jacob. He was snapped out of his daydream by Edmund’s voice.

“Listen I don’t know what you want with me but I can promise you Sir, I have done nothing wrong. I didn’t even know that guy and I was just coming down here for a stroll on a nice Sunday night because that’s what boys my age do. I wasn’t-”

Jacob raised a hand and Edmund clamped his mouth shut. Jacob eyed a pub across the street, one that only had a few drunk business men stumbling around outside and a bartender who just served drinks and didn’t care much for what came in. It was a perfect place for itching information out of a nineteen-year-old boy who nearly was brutally murdered.

“You’re not in trouble, I just want to talk to you. Shall we go?”

“Go where?”

“Follow me.”

Jacob outstretched his hand, offering it to Edmund, who took it gingerly and proceeded to follow Jacob through the alley, the tension between the two boys gnawing at the stone walls surrounding them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alternative title: an assassin and a civilian walk into a bar. that's it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't proof read this good luck

The pub door swung open, a faint bell rattling above to alert the bartender of someone’s presence, and Jacob walked in, Edmund scuttling in close behind him. Inside, the air was thick and smelt of beer with a gentle wine undertone to it. Along the bar, opaque bottles were clustered together, each one with an unidentifiable liquid contained within. Jacob thought it best to avoid them. Light was barely filtering through the stained-glass windows- the light itself tainted a vague scarlet colour from the pub’s name being plastered across the window- which caused shadows to form the darkened corners. Lining one of the back walls were wooden barrels, the wood a deep burgundy. A few faces glanced up at them, while other conversations buzzed around them. No Rooks, no Blighters; Jacob has never been so thankful in his life.

Now the two boys were in a confined space together, the hand that Jacob was holding felt heavy, almost a burden that Jacob didn’t want to feel anymore. The sensation of Edmund’s palm pressed up against his own made his head spin uncontrollably. Everybody’s eyes darted to the space in between them, were their hands we interlocked, and their skin contrasted ever so slight, before giving them a second look that ran down their entire bodies. There was a grunt and whisper from a man in the corner with a newspaper. But he kept hold of Edmund’s hand and weaved them both towards the bar, where they were greeted by a disgruntled bartender with coarse hands clutching a bottle. Eyes followed them the whole way there.

“Can I help you?” He asked, slamming the bottle onto the bar and leaning forwards on his elbows.

“Two beers,” Jacob said, gesturing with his finger. A grunt came from the bartender as he eyed Edmund up, lingering in certain place, and action that made Jacob subconsciously pull Edmund closer to his own body, like a wrench latching onto a bolt. He eyed the bartender carefully as he poured their drinks from a bottle into a glass. However safe London was now that the Templar’s had been chased out, Jacob was forever wary of bartenders that reminded him of a certain someone. He repressed a shudder. The memory was rearing its ugly head again.

For a brief second, Jacob caught Edmund staring at him out the corner of his eye, and met his gaze for a moment before both boys shifted their eyes away as their drinks were handed to Jacob.

“Does Jacob Frye not pay for his drinks either?” Edmund hissed from beside Jacob, slipping his hand out of the older boys grasp and into his trouser pockets. They sat down at a table that was in full view of the bustling streets of Whitechapel. Jacob wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing.  
Jacob knitted his eyebrows together “And how do you know my name?”

Edmund blushed a deep red, the confidence presented before clearly shattering. He shrugged and took a slow sip of his drink, flinching when he swallowed. The pair fell into a deafening silence, the entire pub continuing their conversations in a state of blissful ignorance towards the two boys. Outside, Jacob watched as a couple gestured wildly to each, arguing about some mundane topic, before both of them disappeared down an alley to the side of a building, both fading into the shadows out of view. Jacob sighed and directed his attention back to Edmund. He felt a hint of hope nestle itself in his heart that maybe that would happen to him one day; maybe with Edmund, maybe not with Edmund. Deep down, buried inside the darkened corners of his brain, he hoped for the former.

“Listen, Edmund, I’m more concerned about why you nearly were brutally murdered tonight. I need to know why so I can prevent occurring again, so will you please say something?” Jacob asked, resisting the urge to grab Edmund’s hand that was laid out dainty on the table.

There was a long pause before Edmund spoke “I don’t know anything. I all I know is that-” He inhaled a shaky breath “All I know is that one minute I was sightseeing and the next there was a man with a knife stood directly behind me and his breath was tickling my neck.” One of Edmund’s hands subconsciously went to his neck has he spoke. “I honestly have no idea what happened. I didn’t even notice the man walking behind me until it was too late.”

Nice try, Jacob thought, smirking softly to himself. Growing up in Crawley had allowed Jacob to learn how to survive out on the streets of London, while his sister was busy training and spying on their father. Often, Jacob would mill around in the gambling dens in the far, distant corners of the town and watch as men hurled their earnings at games that were clearly rigged against them. By the time Jacob hit is late teens, he had the back streets and alleys mapped out on the back of his hand and all the strife that came with the people that visited those parts.

“However cute and intelligent you may look Edmund, I can always tell when someone is lying to my face,” Jacob remarked, chugging down the rest of his drink “So either tell me right now, or we continue this conversation all night.”

Edmund fiddled with his ears and drummed his other hand against the glass. His attention was clearly directed elsewhere, and his eyes were averted away from Jacob’s face.  
“Looks like we’re gonna be here all night,” Jacob murmured, scooping up his now empty glass and carrying it back to the bar. He felt Edmund’s eyes burning themselves into the back of his head the entire way there.

********

In hindsight, Jacob was beginning to regret ever uttering those words. Those words had led him to down several drinks throughout the night as he attempted to pry information out of the smaller boy, to the point where his intoxication- both from the alcohol and possibly something else in front of him- was quickly clouding his judgement. And his ability to string together any coherent sentence.

“Hey, did I ever tell you about that one time I…” Jacob trailed off, gesturing wildly towards Edmund. By this point during the night, Jacob was leaning haphazardly on one elbow and leaning forwards so that his nose could easily brush against Edmund’s. “that I derailed a train?”

“Yes Jacob,” Edmund sighed, edging further back in his seat “you did. You’ve been telling me it for the past hour.”

“Oh. But can I tell you it again?” 

“Sure,” Edmund said, scrubbing his hands across his face so roughly he swore he felt his skin peel beneath his fingertips. Tipping his head back, he signalled to the bartender for another drink. He realised he was going to be here a while, judging by the way that Jacob was constantly retelling the same story, each time with a slightly different intensity and different emphasis. And each time Jacob told it, Edmund promised himself that it would be the last time, and that he would just get up and leave the bar instead of listening to the same droning voice over and over again. But he stayed put, and ordered a drink every time the story was retold- there was no possibility of him remaining even remotely sober throughout this ordeal.

Through the haze of liquor and fatigue, Edmund felt a faint buzz of something whenever Jacob spoke and let those caramel, but oh so annoying, words flow out of his mouth. Was it rage? Was it embarrassment? Edmund wasn’t sure. The feeling had lingered ever since he had laid eyes on Jacob, mere hours ago, and Edmund wasn’t sure if he should shake it off and hurl it out the window into the darkened street or whether he should take advantage of it, and find an empty house and back Jacob up against a wall maybe, or climb on top of him and kiss him senseless. 

Edmund blinked frantically to drag himself out of his daze, only to find Jacob staring at him with an eyebrow arched. 

“Nice dream?” Jacob smirked, somehow getting closer. Edmund could feel Jacob’s hot and alcohol tinted breath ghosting over his lips and it made him want to flinch way while simultaneously dragging the older boy closer.

Edmund opened his mouth to speak, but his words completely failed him, a hitched breath escaping before he could stop it. And nothing on this earth would distract him from the smirk that spread across Jacob’s face when he heard it. Edmund was beginning to notice minor details that he hadn’t even cared about before, like how Jacob’s top button on his shirt was undone, or how he had shed his coat, leaving it draped over the back of the wooden chair, so every muscle was accentuated by the white fabric that was dragged tautly over his arms. _Jesus he looked good._

The slam of a glass landing on the table pulled to the two apart. A seething bartender stood towering over them, engulfing them in his shadow to the point where it sent shivers up Edmund’s spine. There was something unfamiliarly captivating about the figure enclosing him. 

He heard Jacob stand up suddenly, but the sound was muffled, his eyes still trained on the bartender above him. He barely even registered Jacob fumbling to slip his coat back on and grabbing Edmund’s hand to lead him outside, where the cool, brisk night air it his face like a ton of bricks and he stumbled over a stone poking out of the ground.  
Jacob wanted to make a snide remark about Edmund and his inability to do anything without falling over, but the younger boy’s face catching in the bar light stopped him. And that Jacob’s mind was currently a disorganised wasteland of emotions and beer.

So maybe that would explain what he did next. Although, Jacob was never fond of having any logical reasoning for his actions.

He pulled Edmund down an alley beside the pub, ignoring the stench of beer and mumbled words of protest and confusion coming from the younger boy. Sat on the floor, with his back flush against the stone wall, was a man mumbling religious prophecies at the them, hands failing about in the air and liquid slipping out of a cup as he did so. Jacob felt almost a hint of sympathy for the man. The rest of the alley evoked memories a time where he would run down the alley, no doubt in pursuit of a Templar or a thief. But this was different. It wasn’t slow in any way at all, but there was something tender and gingerly about it, as if it was a moment that Jacob wanted to cherish for the remainder of his life.  
The alleyway lead into a large, open square, which at the time of night was sparse, give or take a few drunk stragglers from the pub and a bird perched a lamppost in the centre. A man lay sprawled out on the stone with little snores being emitted from his mouth as his drink from a bottle weaved in and out of the stone. Buildings loomed over them, copper pipes running up the back of them. The sound of laughter from the pub reverberating throughout the air; raised voices came from a bricked-up house; bottles smashing over someone’s head, a fist meeting a face a few seconds later; high pitched giggles coming from a lovestruck couple that passed by- Jacob could just about make all of it out.  
Other than the light filtering through an open window in a house backing onto the square and the flickering rays from the streetlamp, the area was completely submerged in darkness. The two boys were just silhouettes echoed on the cobbled stone. 

Jacob dragged Edmund into a corner which was out of view from the public. There was only a window overlooking them, but Jacob decided that no one was home or if anyone was, they wouldn’t bother look out of the window. The square was hardly the most breath-taking scenery around there by a long shot. And maybe that was the only encouragement Jacob needed.

Edmund was leaning against the wall, an amused expression on his face. His eyes trailed up and down Jacob’s body and Jacob couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking the same as him. A silence stretched between the both of them, their eyes communicating words that were impossible to even utter, and Jacob found himself stepping closer to Edmund, the younger boy’s breath tickling his skin. 

In that moment, Edmund looked like a bloody dream. His hair was dishevelled slightly, a few stray strands sticking out and his eyes were like blue glowing orbs in the dark. There was a subtle hint of scarlet on his cheeks. Jacob reached out and cupped Edmund’s cheeks, feeling the stubble scratch against his bare hands. A slight smile tugged at the side of Edmund’s mouth as Jacob leaned in a little, and kissed him. 

_And, God, Jacob swore everything went numb._

He wanted Edmund to push him way. He wanted Edmund to pull away with a look of disgust painted on his face. He wanted Edmund to shout at him and draw strangers towards them. He wanted, Jesus Christ he wanted, someone to tell him that this was wrong and horrifying. But no one did. And Edmund didn’t pull away or shove Jacob’s body off him. Instead he grabbed Jacob by the collar of his coat and dragged him closer. Every single one of Jacob’s sense kicked in when his mouth met Edmund’s again- he could taste the alcohol on Edmund’s tongue that they had drank earlier and even the smell of sweat on the younger boy’s body didn’t cause either of them to falter, if anything it spurred Jacob on more. 

The kiss was everything. It was a gunshot, it was feet clattering against the cobble, it was a train scratching along the tracks, it was… it was. Jacob’s thoughts faded out as suddenly as they had begun, and the sensation of Edmund’s lips took over his sense again, his mind becoming foggy and blurred.  
He slipped his hand underneath Edmund’s shirt and waistcoat and gripped there skin there so tightly bruises would form in the morning. He felt Edmund hands slide over his back and bunch his shirt up into his fist, a shiver running down Jacob’s spine when Edmund’s hands found his bare skin and his featherlight finger tips brushed across the exposed area. This was wrong, so very, very wrong, Jacob told himself. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop. 

He thought about the drunk man laying a few metres away from them, he thought of the open window above them, the thought about the footsteps of the public and how dangerous this was to do. But untangling his body from Edmund’s seemed like an impossible task. Their hands were fumbling around beneath clothes and every now and again, Edmund would release a tiny gasp from the back of his throat and rock his body into Jacob’s And Jacob savoured every second of it.

Eventually, inevitably, they broke apart even though their hands remained. Jacob stared at Edmund’s face- his cheeks had a soft pink undertone and were warm to underneath Jacob’s touch and his mouth and eyes were shining with love.

“I think,” Jacob panted “That we should continue this conversation elsewhere.”

“I sincerely agree,” Edmund murmured back, delivering a peck to Jacob’s, admittedly, scarlet lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was that gay enough idk


	3. chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. SCHOOL KICKED MY ASS AND I DIDN'T HAVE THAT MUCH TIME TO WRITE AHHHHHH  
> 2) take a shot every single time i use an adverb ahahahaha  
> 3) again, sorry for any errors okay i'm a dumb 14 year old who doesn't proof read their work

_This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. The worst idea in fact. The worst idea in the book of worst ideas._

Jacob had just barely dragged himself into consciousness when his thoughts sprung themselves on his brain. The light had only just begun to filter through the window and the patterns on the curtains were dancing across the walls and sheets that encased Jacob. Beside him, a warm weight had nestled itself into his chest and was emitting soft snores that filled the room, and an arm was draped carelessly over his midsection. Jacob shifted his body gingerly as to not disturb the person next to him, so now he was lying flat on his back, and staring blankly at the ceiling above him

For a while, Jacob was unsure where he even was. The markings on the ceiling were unfamiliar, not resembling the chaos that was the train hideout décor. Most of the white paint was peeling off the ceiling, leaving some bare patches in the darkened corners of the room and revealing the wooden flooring of the room above; Jacob didn’t think about why there were some damp patches on the wood. _How many rooms were above him? How many people were here?_ Those questions made Jacob skin crawl and want to writhe around beneath the grip of the arm.

Scattered across the room were books of varying shapes and colours, and even in the dim light, Jacob could just about make out the decaying pages of each one. Other than those books, the room was mostly bare- the only furniture being the bed and two wooden crates stood up on either side.

A faint muffled groan came from the person beside him, and for the first time that morning Jacob glanced over. The boy barely awake, his eyes still shut tight and his body still mostly limp, but occasionally his grip on Jacob would tighten and would interlink their legs together. The boy’s hair was dishevelled from lying on it so much and it fell across most of his forehead and both his eyes were shrouded in a dirty blond mess of curls. Jacob felt a strange urge to gently push the hair out of the boy’s eyes so he could see them better and he could watch as they fluttered closed again and maybe he could swing his legs to be on either side of the boy’s small, fragile torso and kiss him until his eyes spring open again.

_Oh_

That action seemed awfully familiar to Jacob. His brain was still a fuzzy mess with a hangover kicking in and a sharp pain radiating from his head, but last nights memories were beginning weave their way through to the surface. _Edmund_. That was the boy’s name. Jacob remembered the way that it sounded on his tongue, how sweet it was a he whispered it last night into the midnight air and how the feeling of ecstasy had ran through his veins as he gasped the name into Edmund’s mouth and how in the hour following that, when they were both panting heavily, frantically trying to regain their breaths, he had mumbled the name into the darkness before looking over and noticing that Edmund had fallen asleep.

Jacob was almost horrified about how clear his memories were of the night. The most vivid of them all was how they both stumbled through Edmund’s front door and as soon as the door gave an audible click shut, Jacob had shoved Edmund against the nearest wall and kissed him so hard- with so much force- that they both tasted blood.   
“Bedroom,” Edmund had gasped when they pulled away. 

“I think this spot is perfect Eddy,” Jacob murmured. He had shifted his lips so he was digging his teeth into the soft white skin of Edmund’s neck, emitting a hitched gasp from the younger boy. Jacob smirked and continued his actions up Edmund’s neck, up to the shell of his ear.

“Upstairs, Jacob.” Edmund had fumbled around for Jacob’s hand in the darkness and dragged him up the stairs. The door had slammed closed and they both let the drunken haze of lust and giddiness take over.

Jacob blinked into the darkness. Should he be ashamed of what he did? It was easily one of the best nights of his entire life- so how ashamed could he actually be? It had been a whirlwind of emotions; some that Jacob had never experienced before and ones that Jacob had experienced time and time again, but never so richly and powerfully. Still there was something clawing at the back of his mind, warning him that this is a mistake and he should just leave now before Edmund woke up. Maybe he could just slip out the house, leave Edmund to awake with empty arms and a cold space next to him and arrive at the train hideout before Evie- or anyone for that matter- noticed that he had been gone for the entire night. But the thought of leaving without a word and leaving Edmund to deal with this alone was almost too much for Jacob to cope with. Edmund was nineteen, but Jacob hardly believed that the boy could look after himself, let alone deal with something so embarrassing, so horrifying, as what they both did.

“Jacob?”

Jacob snapped his head around to see Edmund staring up at him, two bright blue orbs shining in the dark. The light had hit his eyes at the right angle to the point where Jacob swore he could see the ocean in those two eyes.

“Hey,” Jacob whispered, finally reaching out to brush those damn curls about of Edmund’s eyes. A small grin etched itself onto the younger boy’s face at the gesture.  
“I thought you would have left by now,” Edmund said, pushing himself up the bed so he was eye level with Jacob.

In all fairness, Jacob had thought the same. Yet Edmund’s sleeping face had grounded him to the bed, and it annoyed him how much power the boy had over him already. He hadn’t even known the boy one day and he was already hooked.

“Yeah well,” Jacob laughed, his hand lingering on Edmund’s face for one more second than what it should have. He didn’t know how to describe it to Edmund. He didn’t know how to describe how his heart started beating out of his chest any time that Edmund glanced at him even for a second. He didn’t know how to describe the mix of guilt and lust that had been bubbling up inside of him. How could he? Those were emotions that Jacob Frye shouldn’t feel, especially not towards a nineteen-year-old boy, who had extremely pretty eyes but that was beside the point.

“I think what you mean is…” Edmund said, not even hiding the grin that spread across his face as he inched ever so closer to Jacob. Their noses were touching ever so gently, and Jacob was mustering every ounce of self-control he had to not grab the boy’s face and kiss him.  
In the end, he didn’t have to.

Edmund threw his legs onto either side of Jacob’s hips, straddling him and held eye contact with Jacob until the very last second, as he pressed his lips against Jacob’s own and kissed him deeply. Jacob kissed him back with as much force, grabbing a chunk of Edmund’s hair and dragging him down closer to him to the point where their naked chests were touching.

Jacob wanted to kiss every single inch of the man on top of him; he wanted to pull the man outside and hold him by the waist as the busy London population bustles around them, each one making snide remarks and comments about them. But he wouldn’t care. And he hoped Edmund wouldn’t either.

Is this what young love is meant to be? Jacob wasn’t sure. Yet, he found it impossible to deny that the way Edmund’s nails were digging into his shoulders wasn’t driving him insane, or that the way Edmund would occasionally catch Jacob’s bottom lip in between his teeth wasn’t shoving him into areas of lust he hadn’t even know _existed_ up until that point.

They broke apart slowly, their hands still gripping each other, and Edmund let his head drop to rest in the crook of Jacob’s neck. They were both still for a while, even with the adrenaline running through them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god knows when the next chapter will come out. uhhhhhh sometime before xmas probably. i hope.

**Author's Note:**

> i will stick possible tw in the notes for each chapter/in the tags, but i am awful at identifying tw so please tell me if i've missed any possible ones.


End file.
